


Transgressions of a Star

by SpaghettiCanActivist



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Clint and Loki bonding, Gen, Loki Whump, Loki is a child, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-07-07 03:19:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15899832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaghettiCanActivist/pseuds/SpaghettiCanActivist
Summary: Set right after Thor: Darkworld. Ignores following canon. Loki is capture by SHIELD and Clint is the one tasked with interrogating him. He quickly learns that everything is not as it seems, and who was once an enemy could soon be a friend.





	1. Chapter 1

“Didn't he and I stand together before an all seeing God convicted of the same murder? For I had murdered him with my heart and my tongue.”  
-Corrie Ten Boom

 

Chapter 1: Fool’s Paradise

Some great stars fragment the universe at their deaths, killing those balls of matter which sweep towards them-the great building spheres of life and that which all small organisms depend on- all destroyed in that one last blip of terrifying existence. To cast your eyes toward one as a star experiences the throes of death is magnificent, overwhelming and humbling. No matter how great one being, the sheer size of the universe around them is enough to cast them into obscurity.

Clint Barton stared up at the stars, head leaned back and swallowing as much of the luminous sky as he could. His wife, Laura, was tucked up next to him on the porch swing. It was summer and iced tea sat next to Clint on a garden table while Laura was cupping a glass in her hand. It was late at night, and all the children had been put to bed.

“You know, Lila is starting to say she wants to be just like Natasha,” Laura’s voice was a mix of teasing and warning.

Clint turned his head from the stars to look at his wife and smiled.

“That’s not such a bad thing, is it?” He replied, continuing the teasing.

“Well, we’ll have to start having Natasha train her, and the other kids,” Laura replied.

Clint chuckled. Laura and he hadn’t been able to discuss much about their children’s futures. It was already a strange thing living off the grid, her homeschooling and maintaining the pretty little farmhouse. Someday though, their children would grow up and would have to head out into the big bad world. It wasn’t an easy thing to raise a family while simultaneously working as an Avenger. Any moment he could die.

Laura leaned closer into her husband, silence gently easing in. The temptation for this to never change arose, the feeling that the moment, the stars, the sky, the perfectly sweetened tea and the gentle warm brush of summer wind, would never alter, that they could be frozen in these warm, tender moments, rose in Laura with an intensity she usually didn’t have. Wistfully she kept her mouth closed and adjusted where her head laid on her husband’s shoulder. No moment was meant to last forever. The only thing she could do was enjoy this taste, because things were ever changing and nothing would stay the same.

“Oh, look, it’s a supernova,” Laura said thoughtlessly, her previous days as an astronomy student in a community college coming back to her.

Clint looked to the sky.

“Where?”

Laura lifted a hand.

“There, that bright one, brighter than the others. A supernova is the death of a great star, you don’t see them often.”

Clint cocked his head.

“Funny how it shines brighter than the others,” Clint said before placing a kiss on his wife’s head.

 

Loki stumbled, nearly falling as he tried to walk. He was tired, so very, very tired. Blinking to straighten his vision, Loki placed a hand against the brick alley wall and leaned against it. Soon he lost his balance and fell. His hair had grown out and it was tangled and dirty, matching well with the trashed Midgardian clothing he was wearing. Loki let his eyes close and rested his head against the cold brick. It was chill and cold, misery seeping through his body. He let go, allowing consciousness to slip away from him.

 

An hour later, a person stood in front of the unconscious Jotun, their long coat fluttering softly in the brisk wind. They let out a quiet ‘tsk’ before crouching down. Their wrists were laid across their knees and they were observing Loki. A hand reached out, brushing the hair in Loki’s face to the side, revealing a pale face. They brought the hand back and slowly stood. A moment later they pulled out a phone, dialing in a number, all the while staring down at Loki.

 

Clint frowned, tucking the phone between his chin and shoulder as he picked Nathaniel up and set him in the sink. Laura was setting the table for breakfast and Lila was chasing Cooper with a magic wand. The water had already been let to sit so it was the perfect temperature and Clint grabbed the bottle of baby shampoo, squeezing some into his hand. He soaped up the baby’s head, frown creasing further down his face the longer he listened to the phone. After gently rinsing Nathaniel’s hair, he dried one hand on a towel and shut the phone. Setting it down he brought his attention back to his child, the frown on his face still apparent.

Laura noticed, subtly moving over and brushing his shoulder with her hand.

“Work?” She asked, a towel ready as Clint handed Nathaniel over to her.

Clint didn’t answer, eyes flicking to the window and mouth turning down.

“You go get ready, I’ll tell the kids,” Laura softly replied.

Clint nodded, ever grateful for his wife. She leaned forward, kissing him on the cheek before turning away with their baby in her arms. Clint watched her move towards the couch where clothes were laid out.

In minutes, Clint was dressed in a plain black uniform normal to the agency. He kissed his wife good-bye and hugged his children. He had no idea how long this assignment was going to be, it might be months before he got to see any of them again.

Walking out, he got in his truck.

___________________________________________________________________

 

Clint squinted at the sunlight that burst over the horizon, the helicopter he was on was steadily approaching the S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters in East Africa. It was early morning and the brine smell of salt water from the Indian Ocean rose up and into the low flying vehicle. Clint still hadn’t been briefed on his job. All he knew was that it was urgent and that his expertise was needed. Beyond the most basic skills everyone identified him with, i.e. archery, Clint was well versed in most technical skills one associated with an assassin.

They landed, and Clint was briskly escorted to a briefing room. He was surprised to see Director Fury waiting for him. It must have been a serious situation for the man to take the time to meet with him.

“Director Fury,” Clint greeted.

Fury gave a curt nod and motioned for Clint to follow him out of the room. He was a man who didn’t sit still and he usually briefed agents while either standing or moving.

“A week ago, one of our field agents happened upon something,” Fury started, walking at a fast pace toward the elevator.

They stepped into the elevator and Fury pressed the basement level key. Clint raised an intrigued eyebrow, the basement was reserved for containment, either of objects or people.

“It was rather surprising, and I do not like surprising things,” Fury was quiet a few moments and Clint got the feeling that whatever this was, it was a big deal.

“Very few people know about this, I intend it to stay that way.”

They stepped out and began walking down the white hallways, now below ground and the way illuminated only by artificial light. They stopped in front of a room, a glass, one-way window allowing them to see inside. Clint stiffened, unpleasant memories stirring in him as he took in the dirty, crumpled, but recognizable figure on the floor.

“Question him, any methods go, so long as he doesn’t end up dead before giving us something. Any information would be nice, but I am still very curious as to the sources of his intergalactic army and who supplied them. Also for why he suddenly showed up with this meek act. Something isn’t right here, and until I know what, I want you to do whatever is necessary.”

Fury turned a cold gaze onto Clint.

“Does Thor know about this?” Clint asked, the idea of drawing a god’s wrath not something that came across to him as an ideal situation.

“As I said, very few people are aware that he’s here,” Fury paused, giving Clint a look which indicated that Thor did not know about their guest, before continuing, “You have any resources you need. Be discrete and take as long as you need.”

Clint kept his face calm despite the turmoil that was brewing in him. He hated Loki, his mind had been figuratively raped by the demigod. Fury was handing him revenge on a silver platter and had even given him the go ahead to do whatever he deemed fit. Clint gave a nod and watched as Director Fury walked off. He turned to the mirror. Loki looked pathetic. Clint shook his head. He was human, he was entirely fallible, and he was not prepared to even be in the same room as the man before him.

 

 

Loki woke as the door opened to where he had been imprisoned. He was so tired. Loki blinked owlishly as he looked at the man who had stepped in, someone who was vaguely familiar. Loki tried to pull the memories forward, but they were slippery and instead flashes of the Mad Titan came along with remembered pain. Loki flinched, lowering his gaze and head. The man didn’t step further into the room but there was an aura of cold hostility which reminded Loki of all those who hated him. Hate, that was the only thing which he could recall, that or disdain and pity. There was no love for him, it seemed even Thor had forgotten the emotion as he had left Loki wounded on the desolate plains of Svartalfheim. It hurt more than it made him angry, and more than hurt it seemed fitting and appropriate.

The man said nothing and soon he stepped out and the door shut. Loki knew that this wasn’t the end of it, that soon someone else or the same man would come back in and pain would occupy him.

 

 

Clint finally had summed up enough emotional control to go into the room. He stepped in and stood just past the doorway. Loki was cowering in the corner, wide green eyes held his gaze for only a moment before Loki flinched and looked away. Anger filled Clint, rage at the fact that Loki was playing the hurt one, acting as if he didn’t deserve this. Clint stood still for a few more moments before stepping out. He motioned to a few men who were waiting just outside the door. They nodded. Clint stepped over to the one-way mirror, arms folded and feet apart.

Clint watched with distant interest as the men, several well qualified agents, stepped into Loki’s room and hauled him upright, forcing him into a chair. They tortured him, no questions yet asked, just torture to break the being down. Clint watched for some time before stepping away from the window. He hated Loki, he hated him, but more than that he still feared him, terror enveloping him at the remembered loss of his mind and body. Vulnerability was a precious thing, something he gave to people he trusted, but with Loki it had been a malevolent presence which had torn his sanity from him.

He'd been over this, he thought he’d conquered this demon. Yet there it was, a monster on the table and the tools that were allowing him to exact the revenge he wanted to.

 

 

Strangely enough, even with the vast amount of pain Loki had endured in his life, pain was just as painful, just as scary, and just as feared as it had been the first time. Maybe he knew what to expect, maybe this was all old hat; after Thanos what could mere mortals offer as bargaining? But it was pain, and it still affected him. After over an hour of being worked over, they methodically cleaned him up, ensuring nothing would be infected, and dumped him on the floor. Loki curled up in the corner, trembling, tired, and wishing that he could see his mother sooner rather than later.

But his mother was gone, in a place he would never see. He was not good enough for Valhalla and he knew it, despairing not for his lost paradise but that the last time he had seen his mother had been in the face of her disappointment and pain.

 

 

Clint ensured that the barrage of abuse continued for a week, Loki surprisingly was quiet and said nothing. All the previous arrogance that was present during the Chitauri invasion was gone, and he was subdued and blank faced. Clint hadn’t actually visited the man face-to-face since the first time, but he could feel that the time was coming. He knew how to work this though.

With a blanket in hand and a hunk of bread in the other, he entered the room. The past week had seen only the convenience of water to ensure the demigod’s relative health. Loki was curled in the corner, head bowed, and arms wrapped around his middle. Clint hesitated at the threshold before moving toward Loki. The demigod made no movement which would indicate that he noted Clint’s presence. A few moments passed, and Clint crouched down, setting the folded blanket on the floor and placing the bread on top of it.

Clint eyed Loki, waiting for a response, but none came. He stood and left the room.

 

Loki heard the man retreat, quickly glancing at what had been left behind. It was comfort, both food and a blanket. Loki knew this trick, Thanos had played it unceasingly. He would leave something Loki desired or needed and when Loki took it he was cruelly punished. It had been a lesson, one that proved to Loki that he deserved nothing, and that everything was a gift given by his captor and only to be accepted as his captor prompted him. Loki would not touch anything until he was told he could do so.

So instead of using it, he hunched further into himself and let his mind wander to happy memories. He thought of his mother and the rooms she kept with her own personal library. She had held him a lot when he was young, hugging him and treating him gently, it had lessened as he grew older, as it naturally should. But Loki still craved it, wished he could be swept onto his mother’s lap and had his hair carded through and soothing words whispered to him. He wished he could be safe again in her arms. So, he clung to the memories of when that was reality. He tried to forget that he was a Jotun, a murderer, and a worthless monster.

 

  
Clint left the room appearing calm and composed. It wasn’t until he got to his room and then the part of his room the camera couldn’t see before he let himself fall apart silently. He wished Natasha was here to guide him right, he wished Laura was here to give him the safety of her gentle nature and kindness. Trembling, Clint clutched at his head. He wanted to feel safe in his own head, not jumpy and afraid as if he were about to be ripped apart all over again.


	2. The Darker the Night, the Brighter the Stars

Clint had hoped that he would be able to talk to Natasha. Natasha however was away on assignment with Steve, Clint had looked into it and knew that the two were up to some reconnaissance missions. They made a good team, a soldier with a lot of power and the ability to not question any order and an elite assassin who was more than adept at concealment. Fury was good with his placement. Why then, had Fury given Clint this assignment?

Clint’s presence at Loki’s ‘window’ had become near constant. Two weeks had gone by, three in total since Loki’s capture, and Clint had replaced the bread every other day. Yet the demigod had refused to touch either the blanket or the bread. Clint would say it was some sort of prideful display of opposition, but when told he could drink water, Loki never refused and seemed desperate to have it. Clint let a small frown make its way onto his face. He didn’t understand. Loki hadn’t cracked yet, or he seemed to have already cracked for someone else long ago and already given away everything. Clint had made sure the torture was kept up on a daily basis, for long periods of time. Loki always seemed terrified, the pain seemed to bother him, yet there was a sense of resignation in the demigod which threw Clint off.

None of it mattered though because three weeks had gone by and Loki hadn’t even opened his mouth. Most people by now would be begging to spill all their secrets. Clint needed a different approach. Letting out a soft sigh, Clint watched the men finish the torture. The room was soundproof, but Clint could only imagine the sounds Loki was making by the way the demigod’s mouth was wrenched open and by the way his entire body seemed taut, tendons standing boldly from the skin as they were strung tight by millions of firing nerves informing their owner that flesh was being rendered injury.

The cleanup took a little bit, but soon the men were stepping out and Loki was left in the soft white clothes the agents had changed him into after treating his injuries. Clint waited a few minutes before stepping back in with the blanket and bread.

Usually he would just leave it on the ground and step out. This time when he set it down, he stayed crouched.

“Loki,” Clint said.

He watched Loki flinch. Loki was in his usual position of the corner where he had his arms wrapped around himself and his head bowed.

“I brought bread, and a blanket. They’re for you,” Clint continued in an even, calm voice.

Loki turned his head and tremulous green eyes met Clint’s before glancing down at the proffered items. He looked back up at Clint, weighing something in Clint’s composure. A minute passed, and Loki still didn’t take the items. Clint felt frustration well up in him. He carefully tamped it down, thinking about what his mission was here.

“They’re for you to use. You can use them,” he restated.

For some reason this garnered a response. Loki snatched the bread from the pile and began attacking it ravenously. Clint watched him eat for a few moments before standing and leaving the room.

 

“Nothing, but I think progress is being made.”

Clint was giving a verbal report to Fury over a video call in one of the meeting rooms.

“Keep me updated,” Fury said.

Clint nodded. He was leaned back at the long, wide table and was looking up at the screen which was projecting his boss. The video meeting hadn’t been long, just basic information about the project and how it was progressing. A meeting which was probably just about over. There was silence as Clint waited to be dismissed.

“To be honest, Agent Barton, I wasn’t sure you could do this.”

Clint kept a straight face as Fury looked at him with a steely gaze.

“I’ve been advised to remove you from this project, my gut tells me otherwise. Don’t prove it wrong Barton.”

The video call ended promptly, and Clint was left in the empty room with Fury’s words hanging over him. Logically, protocol wouldn’t have let Clint work this current project, a small matter of conflict of interest as they would say.

Clint had every intent to prove them wrong. His past wasn’t going to haunt him and he was going to crush Loki. It was time to start asking questions.

 

When Clint stepped into the room, Loki was curled in the corner, body trembling erratically. Today they had experimented with electricity. Clint felt nothing but cold satisfaction.

“We’re going to do something different today,” Clint said leaning up against the wall opposite of the demigod.

Loki made no response.

“You’re going to answer a few questions,” Clint stated, watching Loki closely for some sign of refusal.

There wasn't an answer. Maybe Loki wasn’t broken yet, maybe he was holding out. Clint decided to start with questions he hoped would level the playing field. Questions meant to disarm him.

“Where did you get that scar on your chest?” Clint asked casually.

Loki didn’t move and Clint thought for a moment that the man wasn’t going to answer.

“I-I failed,” Loki spoke.

Clint’s head tilted nearly imperceptibly. He was listening and analyzing, this was a game.

“He left me too, it’s better that way,” Loki finished, speaking more to himself than Clint.

Loki turned his head and glazed green eyes struggled to focus on Clint. Loki blinked and flinched again.

“How did you fail him?” Clint asked.

“Mother died, because of me, and then the elves stabbed me and he left. He didn’t come back. He had promised,” Loki’s gaze was unfocused.

Clint wasn’t going to feel pity, not over this pathetic spiel. Loki was going to have to try a lot harder.

“Why are you here?” Clint asked.

Loki’s eyes settled on him and the man seemed to take him in for the first time.

“I-I don’t know, I’m supposed to be dead,” Loki frowned and Clint watched as confusion twisted the demigod’s face.

Loki twitch violently before curling farther into himself.

“I’m trying to be nice here Loki, if you start lying to me I can’t help you.”

Loki blinked as if coming back to himself slightly.

“I’m not supposed to be here,” he said, his gaze landing on Clint, eyes clear.

“I should be dead, you wish it so,” Loki was silent a moment and Clint felt unnerved as Loki’s eyes met his, a sharp, green, telling nature.

Loki shuddered and the clarity fell away, his eyes skittering to the side, “but I’m not,” he muttered.

Clint felt as though he was losing control of this and had no better of a hold on the situation. Loki was crazed, a shuddering victimized ball. However he wasn’t flaunting it, and where Clint expected subtle moves to claim pity and to gain a foothold in a psychological battle, he saw strange screw ups where Loki seemed to do the opposite. It was bothering Clint. He wasn’t getting a read on the situation.

“Why did you do it?” Clint asked sharply, husked anger coming through.

Loki looked in confusion at him.

“You have hurt people, murdered, what gives you the right to do that?” Clint spoke without thinking and despite regretting it he could feel his emotions guiding him.

Loki grew sorrowful but he was silent.

“I can’t even pity you,” Clint spat out.

A tense moment passed and Clint gained enough control to know that he shouldn’t be there, not in that room, not on this job, not on the same continent as the thing before him. He bit his tongue, the blood was an acrid warm flavor blooming across the injured appendage. It was grounding. He turned without a word and left.

Outside he maintained a facade, nodded to the workers and then rushed for air. He needed space, he needed time and he needed to be able to think without his mind spinning out of control.

He took his bow and arrow, flashed his security clearance and gained access to the small portion of the base that existed in the real world. Stepping out into the blazing sun of the equator, dust palpable and air being pushed along by a faint breeze. All of a sudden he could breathe again, the tightness in his chest fading. 

Clint headed out to a small gun range they kept, eyed his boy and arrow and set them to the side to practice with the basic SHIELD side arm. With each shot, his mind slipped away from the monster in the basement. He had control back.

 

 

Clint had intended on giving up, Fury’s gut be damned, this job wasn’t for him. He just desperately wanted to go home and hold Laura. It was something familiar though, the desire to give up. He could remember being held down in Beirut, stuck for twenty eight days with nearly no sleep, no food, and trying to fight with limited supplies. He’d been hallucinating at the end, thin and torn. He’d felt this same emotion, the desire to just lay down and let the dust collect on his body. He hadn’t given up though.

Closing his eyes, Clint sighed, letting a breath out through his teeth. He was standing outside Loki’s door. The man was curled in the corner as always, trembling, shaking.

He hadn’t given up then, he wasn't going to now.

“Long night?”

It was Miller, one of the agents who worked Loki over. It had been over a month now and Clint had started to make friends, or at least perfunctory acquaintances. 

Clint grunted in response, hands finding their way to his hips. Miller gave a knowing nod and Clint couldn’t help but feel the exasperation of one who is not actually understood. The agents he was working with were too low leveled to be privy to the knowledge of his and Loki’s relationship. Fury didn’t exactly want to broadcast the ‘conflict of interest’ part.

“He say anything?” Clint already knew the answer.

Loki never spoke during torture, not even to beg, or to belittle, or to say anything at all. The man’s fortitude was astounding, though his mental state seemed to collapse when left alone.

“No, same as usual,” Miller replied promptly.

Clint gave a nod. He was going to try asking questions again. Second round, it couldn’t be worse than the first. 

“Alright, I want whoever we have monitoring the recordings to go back through them, there might be something we’re missing.”

Miller gave a nod and moved off. Clint steadied his breath and heart before entering.

“Loki,” Clint said, voice neutral.

Loki’s head snapped around, green eyes staring at him.

“I have more questions,” Clint said, warily walking father into the room, the door sliding shut behind him.

He had a team outside, watching and waiting to see if anything happened.

Loki didn’t reply at first, then his mouth, having gaped open and close like a fish, as though struggling for air, produced sound.

“Hello,” it was terribly soft and quiet.

Clint resisted the tug of his brow at the strange greeting.

“Why did you attack Earth?”

Loki looked confused at first, before a pained look grew on his face..

“Did I? I did,” he muttered.

Casting his eyes down as if searching for something, Loki seemed lost for a moment. Then his eyes came up and he was staring at Clint again.

“He wanted it, to make things balanced,” Loki finally answered.

Intrigued and feeling like he was finally getting somewhere, Clint took another step closer to Loki. Loki flinched back.

“Who?” Clint asked.

“No, no, no, no,” Loki wailed, eyes clenching shut and his arms squeezing around his middle, “a name like poison, no, no, no.”

Clint felt aggravation fill him, but a sense of foreboding edged on the boundaries of his senses.

“Who?” He asked a little more firmly.

“Please don’t, his name, I don’t, I don’t want to hurt anyone,” Loki was going into hysterics.

“Who?!” Clint pressed, nearly yelling.

Loki wrenched at his hair.

“Thanos,” he whispered before crumbling into a small ball.

Clint frowned, the name wasn’t familiar. He took a step back and stared at Loki for a moment. He wasn’t getting anything further from the man. He left the room.

 

 

Clint sent another report to Fury, the man seemed intrigued by the name Thanos but if by the flicker of curiosity in Fury’s eyes, he hadn’t heard the name either. Whoever they were, Loki was terrified of them. Clint wondered even if Loki had made the name up, if this was all some game he was playing. Clint sighed and turned in his bunk, staring at the white brick wall. He wouldn’t put it past the demigod to attempt something as intricate as this and he didn’t doubt the man had the ability to pull it off.

There seemed something so sincere though about Loki’s attitude, a quality that couldn’t be faked, no matter the mastery of deceit one might have. You could take on the figure, the actions, the words of a damaged person but there was something about the eyes that he’d never seen anyone quite be able to fake. Maybe it was displaced, summoned emotion from some other trauma that the demigod had experienced.

Clint couldn’t determine the veracity of Loki’s statements, but he had all the time in the world to question, if Loki was lying, he would be able to poke holes into the web at some point.

A faint buzzing sound gained his attention and Clint brought up his cell phone. It was Laura, he was allowed a few calls with her, not many, but enough to keep him going. With where his mind was, he’d almost forgotten that he’d been waiting for her to call.

“Hey sweetheart.”

“Hi daddy!” The bright voice of Lila chirped through the sound piece of the phone.

Clint smiled despite himself.

“Mommy said I could talk to you a little bit, I just wanted to tell you that I made a picture today.”

“That’s so cool, what is it of?” Clint asked, enthusiasm coloring his tone.

“Of you and mommy and me and Nathy and Coop and Mr. Wiggles.”

“Wow, that sound pretty amazing Lila.”

“I know,” Lila said confidently, “Mommy wants to talk to you now. So I gotta go, bye bye!”

“Bye bye, sweetie.”

Clint listened to the phone be handled, Lila’s voice sounding out distantly as she said something to someone. Cooper let out a screech and Clint’s smile grew as the screech was followed by Laura’s remonstrative tone.

“Hey, we’ve got a crazy crew today,” she said with a laugh.

“I bet, how are you guys?”

“We’re good, how are you doing?”

Clint paused, interested in being as honest with his wife as possible.

“I’m doing okay,” he said.

“Okay,” Laura replied, a hint of worry in there.

“Tell me about you guys, what you’ve been doing, I want to hear about that,” Clint said emphatically.

Laura let out a soft chuckle and Clint basked in her voice as she began to talk about the prosaic little things they did, about Cooper losing his two front teeth at the same time, about Lila’s new found love for a certain kids’ show, about how Nathaniel had started on purees. When they had to hang up, Clint said his ‘I love you’s and was able to sleep in peace.


	3. Measuring Luminosity

Clint woke early the next morning, did his PT routine, inhaled coffee and breakfast before heading down to the interrogation room. He’d slept well last night and he’d woken up this morning feeling energetic and centered. They were entering week five and he felt certain that this week would be telling.

Heading down in the elevator he took a few moments to relax and enjoy the positive premonition he had about his mission. The doors opened with a small ding and he strode out of the elevator and into the hall.

His good mood halted as he spotted the small crowd of agents cluttered around the outside of Loki’s cell. Clint picked up pace and made his way over.

“Barton, good to see you,” Hagen said.

Clint gave a nod in reply, before addressing the group at large.

“What’s going on?” He asked, looking into the room.

It looked like usual, Loki in the corner as always, curled up. Something seemed a bit different though.

Mmagu, one of the agents assigned as a medical assistant answered Clint’s question.

“The containment, he’s changing, we don’t know how but his physical state is not how it was and he is taking on completely different traits.”

Clint looked through the glass again and this time he spotted it. The bit of skin that was showing was blue.

“What the-” he said, blinking in surprise.

The flurry of agents kept on going. Clint however had a niggling something in the back of his mind. He needed to call Fury. Making his way back down the hallway and onto the elevator he prepared to contact his boss.

  
  
  
  
  


“Blue skin?” Fury said, repeating Clint’s description as though he were trying to understand it.

“Yes,” Clint said in affirmation.

“We have some knowledge about Asgard, but its limited, and Dr. Selvig isn’t very keen on sharing,” Fury paused, face thoughtful, “I’ll bring him in for you. Keep me updated.”

With that the call was over. Selvig, Clint had vague memories of the man, he knew the doctor had been subjected to the same thing he had. A slave in one’s own mind, it was no wonder the man wasn’t keen on sharing.

The good mood Clint had sported upon waking up was completely gone. It was advised that until they knew the cause of Loki’s sudden change, no one was allowed in, who knew if it was a defensive tactic, heck they didn’t even know what species Loki was, except that he’d been raised as an Asgardian but wasn’t one. All the progress he’d been looking forward to making had slipped away.

  
  
  
  


Dr. Selvig did not appear like a sound minded individual. His dress was rumpled, mismatched and looking as though he had barely managed to put something on. His eyes, once a bright coherent blue, were dull and twitched about, landing on something just to be spooked and flicker away to something else. When Clint met him on the top floor, the man was fiddling with the handle of his leather suitcase, appearing haggard and disoriented.

“Dr. Selvig,” Clint said.

Selvig’s eyes looked to him and they cleared up, that bright blue sharpening.

“Clint,” he said, a note of surprise coloring his voice.

Clint was surprised in turn, he didn’t figure that the doctor would remember him, let alone his name.

“I’m here because of him, aren’t I?” Selvig asked, his sharp mind quickly going through the facts.

Clint gave a nod.

“I’m sorry, I know this isn’t easy,” Clint said.

Selvig shook his head, eyes wandering again.

“No, no, I’m glad I can help, it’s the least I can do now,” he murmured.

He spared a mournful look at the floor before raising his head, a weak forced smile on his face and his blue eyes watery and tired.

“Besides, I'd rather not pull Jane away from her work,” he attempted to make his tone jovial.

Clint wanted to say something reassuring and cheerful but found the words wouldn't come.

“You've no idea how grateful we are for your help with this.”

Selvig's lips quirked once again, too weak an attempt to even portray a broken smile. Clint clenched his jaw but said nothing.

“This way.”

Selvig followed after Clint, following him up to the elevator before jerking to a stop.

“We won't-?” Selvig cut short, eyes narrowing in a probing fear.

“Is there a problem Dr. Selvig?” Clint asked.

Selvig’s head jerked.

“I-I can't see him, I can't. I'll help you, but I won't see him.”

The sudden declaration took Clint by surprise before then presenting him with a difficult situation. He scrambled about for a compromise which would meet the Agency's needs without them losing their resource. It would take a month at least to get Jane back from her trip in some islands north of Greenland and they had no idea if Loki's sudden change could spell catastrophe.

“Of course,” Clint quickly assured, replanning how this would go.

Selvig gave a wary nod but stepped into the elevator with Clint. Clint meanwhile had come up with something. Instead of taking Selvig down to Loki's containment cell he would bring the man to a conference room where they would be able to discuss matters and have whatever electronic devices they needed for Selvig.

Clint got off at the second floor and lead Selvig to an empty conference room. Selvig set his briefcase on the table and Clint sat across from him.

“Dr. Selvig, we're in a position where we still don't know much about Thor, or for that matter all of space. These unknowns present dangers for us, the end of life on Earth, as we can clearly see by the most recent invasion.”

Selvig shifted uncomfortably in his seat, eyes flashing from the wall to the table.

“I'm going to be frank with you and ask you a lot of direct questions, I know you've suffered from what's already come, I have as well, but worse things could be on the way and you could be one of the ones who stands in the way of Earth and its end.”

Selvig gave a weak nod.

“I understand, I'll help you all I can.”

Clint smiled warmly at the man, grateful. He personally knew how hard it was.

“First, I need to know everything I can about Loki's biological processes.”

Selvig's eyes sharpened again, and a gleam of impassioned scholastic interest burned in them.

“Ah, yes, Jane and I have made much progress. We've been asking Thor as much as we can and he has given us a lot of information. There is a cataloged series of transcripts between him and Jane where he talks about Asgardian culture, biology, society, medicine, machines, magic, everything. There's a section on Loki.”

Selvig pulled his briefcase onto the table and opened it. He withdrew an old, clunky looking laptop followed by a thick stack of papers.

“By chance have you heard of the Sitovo inscription?”

Selvig didn't give time for Clint to respond.

“It's an undeciphered bit of text in a cave in Bulgaria. Thor revealed that it is an older language on Asgard, taught and used by some old tribe that used to reside on Earth. There was more of it found elsewhere, a lot more. It speaks all about the Asgardians and other mythical races and events.”

Clint raised a brow, eyes raking over the thick stack of papers in his hand, pulling out of the discussion between Jane and Thor on Asgardian gardening and it's religious and medical significance.

“It speaks of Loki's people,” Selvig said, caught up in the heat of explanation.

“The Asgardians?” Clint asked.

Selvig shook his head, whipping his computer around to show Clint a picture of a cave with drawings and archaic lettering. The drawings were of men and then large giants.

“Loki is an Ice Giant, a Jotunn of Jotunheim.”

Clint blinked.

“A what?”

“An Ice Giant, they were bitter enemies throughout Asgardian history, even Thor doesn't know the beginning of their wars and he's nearly 1500 years old, still young for an Asgardian though.”

Clint nearly whistled, his perspective on Thor changing.

“Okay, what can you tell me about Jotuns? Their biology, their abilities?” Clint asked, feeling like this was possibly going to get him somewhere.

“Jotnar. Thor couldn't tell us much, the Asgardians seem to know little of the Jotnar. However, one of the new texts that showed up goes into great depth about the Jotnar. Jane was always more inspired by this than me, so I've not read much of it.”

“Is it translated?”

Selvig nodded his head. He turned the computer back around and began typing.

“So, this could explain why Loki is turning blue?”

It was Selvig's turn to blink in perplexion.

“Well, no, Jotnar are blue, their skin is so cold it freezes all living things that touch it. Thor said his mother knowingly, and then his brother unknowingly, used seidr --their magic-- to keep his image and physical body like that of an Asgardian.”

“So Loki's magic is failing?”

Selvig shrugged.

“According to Thor, Loki is an anomaly, an abandoned runt who Odin, Thor's father, took in as a baby. Most Jotnar don't use the advanced magic of the Asgardians, most Asgardians don't either. At least that’s what I gather from the way Thor speaks of it. I haven't a clue how it works.”

“This is amazing Dr. Selvig, you won't mind leaving all of your work here, will you?”

Selvig shrugged, the scholarly passion fading and his jumpy state returning.

“No,” he replied.

Clint stood, papers in hand. Selvig produced a USB drive and began downloading the content. Clint meanwhile began to flip through the printed transcripts. They were dated and titled. One on Asgardian clothing, another on the hierarchy of Asgardian society. The interactions showed that Jane was a thorough interviewer and insatiably curious, it seemed that Thor was more than willing to humor her.

What surprised Clint was that none of this material had been referred to SHIELD. He, however, was not sure if Thor’s girlfriend was a supporter of SHIELD. It would be at least one explanation as to why they didn’t have this information.

Clint retired to his room with the USB and his own computer. They had professionals to look through this, catalog and make decisions. Clint wanted to know though, he wanted to understand Loki, before anybody else. One more protocol breached, but it wasn’t like he wouldn’t hand it over later on.

Quickly skipping through the transcripts between Thor and Jane, a series of inquiries about Asgard and though terribly interesting and no doubt of importance of little use to Clint in his position, Clint stopped at the translated ‘books’ recording Jotnar history. They weren’t books, instead language scrawled across the walls of an enormous cavern on the island of Svalbard.

He began reading. He didn’t get far, and the picture he was getting of the Jotnar was that they were very religious, worshipping ice, and that these records predated the existence of Asgardians, at least Asgardians or any other civilized life form was not mentioned.

Clint shut the laptop, feeling as though he hadn’t gotten much. He’d sent a message earlier, explaining the blue skin, cautioning his people. By now they would’ve put in the proper safety protocols which would allow him access into the room.

Heading down to the containment level, Clint thought about Selvig. The man’s life had been ruined by the invasion Loki had instigated and lead. The man had been a celebrated scholar and scientist, renowned in his field, and now he was a shell of a man, reduced to fits of insanity and a nervous disorder.

Loki had ruined hundreds of thousands of lives all for the sake of power and revenge. Clint couldn’t forgive that.

Stepping through the hall, Clint let out a soft sigh, composing himself until he came to the room. There was one agent monitoring. Loki was curled up in the corner, entire body blue. It caused a striking image, the curled figure in white with hair the same dark mess of tangled hair and the blue skin. A collar had been placed around Loki’s neck and Clint assumed that this was part of the containment.

“He’s stayed the same,” the agent supplied.

Clint gave a small nod.

“I’m going in, keep a team on standby, just in case,” Clint ordered.

The agent gave a small nod and Clint headed into the room. Loki was motionless and even after Clint entered he made no movement.

Clint took a few steps in.

“Loki.”

Loki’s head turned, sluggish and slow. Clint saw blood red eyes, face marked with raised facial scars, or natural physical skin marks. He looked sallow and thin. Clint wondered, for a moment, about the lack of nourishment. Thor had said he, as an Asgardian and god, could live without it though not without some unpleasant though not lasting repercussions. Loki wasn’t Asgardian or a god. They could be killing him.

“You’re a Jotnar,” Clint said.

Loki blinked, unresponsive.

“Not even Asgardian,” Clint needled.

Loki shook his head slowly.

“Monster,” he rasped out.

Clint didn’t know how to take that, the utterly done in tone, the hopelessness. For some reason it made him angry.

“You’re not getting out of it as easy as that, you know that right?” Clint said, tone antagonistic.

Loki said nothing, red eyes dull and empty.

“You don’t get to give up,” Clint spat out. “You have to pay, for everything, but first, you’re going to tell us everything.”

Loki seemed even more resigned to this prospect.

“Who is Thanos?” Clint asked sharply.

Loki flinched, a tremor of fear running through him. His head turned away and Clint watched as all of Loki’s bodily responses pointed to his fear and terror.

“Who is he?” Clint demanded.

“I don’t know,” Loki replied. “He caught me in my fall, and he promised me pain and never death.”

Loki’s voice was hoarse and trembling with fear. Clint tried to figure out if it was a lie, but it was so vague, and Loki so genuine.

“I failed him,” Loki wailed. “And Thor, and father, and mother.”

There was a pause.

“Why did you invade?” Clint asked.

“He told me to,” Loki whispered.

Clint left then, feeling uneasy. Outside the agent looked briefly at him, Clint had already steeled his face though and he betrayed nothing.

Heading back to his room, Clint resolved to read everything in the accounts, something to understand and justify what he was seeing. He didn’t trust Loki, not at all, but he looked as broken and even more so than Dr. Selvig, like something had been snapped and stolen away. The word ‘monster’ rang through his head. He’d been called that before, for things he’d done in the name of peace and successful missions.

Clint hoped, more than anything, that he was nothing like Loki. Yet the thought seemed to ring true more than he could believe.


End file.
